


Kindness to Grow

by pockyandsoda (AceHensworth)



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Christmas Presents, First Kiss, Fluff, Gen, Getting Together, Love Confessions, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-16 05:38:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19311739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceHensworth/pseuds/pockyandsoda
Summary: It's the first Christmas since the Apocalypse-that-wasn't and Aziraphale decides that this year he wants to gift Crowley a new houseplant. Crowley can't possibly treat this plant as he treats his others, which leads to realisations and confessions.This is just super fluff tbh, although I may add an extra chapter of just smut at some point. First chapter is Aziraphale buying and gifting the plant, second chapter is Crowley being conflicted over said plant, and third chapter is the big one.





	1. Gift Giving

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on twitter and tumblr both @ohgoodlordd. If you know of any 18+ Good Omens group chats hmu.

Aziraphale very much enjoyed the human tradition of gift giving. There was something so inherently wonderful about the practise. Although it could be said that when the three wise men gave gifts unto Jesus Christ it was done as a form of worship or supplication - as many gifts given since then have been - Aziraphale chose to focus on the love and intimacy involved in choosing something for another person.

Christmas time was a lovely time of year, particularly in the Western world where these sorts of things were actually celebrated. Admittedly having known Jesus Christ fairly well at the time, Aziraphale was aware that December was not actually when Jesus had been born - nor had he died (the first time) in the Spring. But he couldn’t argue against the warmth such an occasion brought to the cold London streets every year. There was delicious food and wine to be had, and as usual; gifts!

Gift giving between Aziraphale and Crowley was not unheard of, but they didn’t take part every mortal year, that would be far too often. No, instead they had somehow come to an unspoken agreement that they would exchange small gifts every 50 years or so. Aziraphale had tried to argue that technically the miracles they would sometimes do for one another as part of their Agreement were also gifts of a sort, but Crowley would always disagree.

Either way Aziraphale went strolling along one of the many Christmas markets London had to offer on the hunt for something special for someone special.

This being the first Christmas since the Apocalypse-that-wasn’t a lot had changed in the angel’s life. For one, this year he would have been purchasing gifts regardless of his and Crowley’s routine, because he had now apparently befriended the mortals who helped save the world. Madame Tracey had assisted him in picking out gifts for everybody else as he truly didn’t know very much about them. He had tried to convince Crowley to purchase (or at least miracle) the humans some gifts as well, but he had declined. Aziraphale had taken the liberty of signing all of the gift tags from the both of them anyway, Crowley needn’t know.

Still his most important purchase would always be his gift for his dear Crowley.

In the past they had kept the gifts to relatively small or impersonal things, keeping an air of distance to their kinship. But this was another area where his life had changed recently. There were no longer enemies at his doorstep. Heaven and Hell had left them alone these past few months. There was no reason to keep up the pretense anymore.

In fact, things had become confusing for the angel. There were times when his closest friend would be gentle and look at him softly, content to simply sit and listen to Aziraphale talk. But there were other times where he would be irritable and distant. Truthfully Aziraphale had been struggling with his feelings on the matter.

The matter being Crowley, that is. As an angel he had a love for all living things, and this love was immense, but the love he had specifically for Crowley was different, in ways that confused him. He tried not to dwell on it. Perhaps the way he loved Crowley was different...but Crowley was a demon and they did not love that way.

Aziraphale knew plenty about Crowley and therefore needed no assistance from the humans. He was delighted at all of the wonderful and interesting things for sale that these humans had spent time creating and obtaining. Truly splendid! 

He wanted to get Crowley something special this time, he felt that he needed to. If he couldn’t express his adoration through words or actions, then he would do so through his gift. 

After a few hours he had returned to the bookshop, present in hand. 

One of the many things Aziraphale had noticed about Crowley’s flat now that he had been spending more time there was the amount of beautiful houseplants Crowley kept. He had spent more than a few moments enjoying their presence on his visits. He had found himself wondering if this was a way of further separating his home from Hell, or maybe even trying to recreate the Garden he once inhabited freely before his fall. The thought made Aziraphale’s heart contradict itself as it felt at once vibrant and heavily constricted.

So Aziraphale had bought Crowley a new houseplant.

He wasn’t sure what type of plants Crowley preferred, but he seemed to have a thing for very leafy companions. Aziraphale examined the little potted plant and worried a bit. It was rather small at that moment, with only two average leaves, but he had been assured by the merchant that it had the capacity to grow into a very tall plant, and even blossom flowers. The angel watered it gently and hoped Crowley would like the gift.

It was two days later that he finally handed the little plant over to Crowley. They were at Crowley’s flat sharing some wine after a lovely dinner at an Italian place not too far away. Aziraphale had tried to convince Crowley to decorate his home for Christmas, but Crowley had pointed out that he didn’t even celebrate the holiday. Aziraphale in turn at pointed out that by going out for a meal and exchanging gifts he was - in fact - celebrating. 

Aziraphale fiddled with the string handles of the gift bag in his lap nervously, unsure of when the best time to instigate the gift exchange would be. He caught Crowley giving him a fond look as he noticed this.

“Right then, angel.” He sounded slightly exasperated, but Aziraphale knew he wasn’t really. “Would you like to go first?” He gave a slight head nod to Aziraphale’s lap. Crowley always tried to play off that he didn’t care about these sorts of things, but Aziraphale was aware that Crowley secretly enjoyed these traditions of theirs.

Aziraphale felt no such need to pretend, and thus was openly relieved to finally get to it. He was filled with nervous anxiety over how Crowley would react to his slight change to this specific tradition.

“Very well.” He smiled brightly as he reached over to Crowley and handed him the gift bag. “I wanted to get you something special this time. I do hope you like it, dear.” 

He spoke a little faster than normal, wanting to get his explanation out before Crowley looked. Crowley raised a slightly amused eyebrow before peering inside.

Once he had taken a look he froze.

Aziraphale panicked.

“Oh, dear.” Sighed the angel. “You don’t like it? Is it too much? You can just miracle it away if it’s not to your liking. I wasn’t sure-” He began muttering.

“It’s fine.” Crowley was still looking into the bag intently.

“Oh?”

“It’s good, sorry.” Crowley finally snapped out of it, looking up apologetically. He slowly removed the small potted plant from the bag and held it up. “I just - I wasn’t expecting it, is all.”

“Well, I thought since everything is different now that maybe we should...celebrate a bit more.”

“Oh, no.” Crowley seemed to come to some realisation. “No, no, no.”

“Is there something wrong with it?”

“No! No, it’s good.” Crowley seemed to come back to himself a little as he placed the plant on the coffee table in front of him.

“I noticed you had quite a few of them and I thought maybe you’d like another.” Aziraphale still felt uncertain that he’d made the correct decision. “So that you could think of me whilst you tend to it.”

Crowley flashed him a soft smile of amusement and fondness and the angel finally felt like he was making a breakthrough, but just as quickly the smile was replaced with a pained expression as Crowley gazed gravely at his new plant.

“My gift isn’t quite as good, I’m afraid.” Said Crowley sheepishly after a few moments. He reached down beside the armchair he was sitting on and passed a small wrapped box to Aziraphale.

The angel beamed at the sight of his gift, it was wrapped very well and his heart fluttered realising Crowley must have taken his time with it. He gave the box a slight humorous shake by his ear as he had seen humans do in movies and such. He swore he saw Crowley’s cheeks turn pink at the action.

He carefully placed the box on his lap as he tore open the wrapping paper (an action he enjoyed far more than he’d admit) and gently opened the top of the box. Inside were four rather delicate looking pastries. He suddenly felt a wave of guilt over shaking the box moments before, but the damage to the treats appeared to be minimal. Aziraphale instantly felt his form’s stomach and saliva glands react to the image and smell of the deserts. The smell caused a distant memory to stir.

“My dear, are these from that same delightful place that made those crepes in Paris?” Aziraphale asked in disbelief. To say he was confused was an understatement, surely that place was not still in business, at the very least not to the same standard. He remembered how they had sat in that establishment and ate many sweet delights. Suddenly he no longer cared about the ‘why’ or ‘how’. “These are wonderful, Crowley!”

“Well…” Crowley seemed embarrassed as he waved away the praise and attempted to hide his grin. “They won’t last as long as this plant, mind.”

“No they shan’t!” Chuckled Aziraphale, who was very much looking forward to consuming the pastries. “They are wonderful, Crowley.” He repeated earnestly. His heart was so full of warmth as he looked into Crowley’s beautiful eyes. He could take it no longer, surely he loved this being more than any other. “You are wonderful, Crowley.”

This time there was no mistaking it, Crowley definitely blushed as he looked away and coughed to himself.

“Yeah, well, you’re not too bad yourself, angel.” He responded awkwardly.

Aziraphale found that he no longer minded all that much if Crowley was unable to return his affection in the same way, he simply loved the old fool, and he would no longer hide it. Besides, as he tasted the first of his sweet treats from the demon, he realised maybe he was wrong about that. Only love could taste so magical.

He would just have to find the right time to tell Crowley all this. He decided that it could wait for now.


	2. Plant Keeping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now Crowley must take care of Aziraphale's gift to him. It's a bit of a struggle for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on tumblr and twiiter both @ohgoodlordd. If you know of any 18+ Good Omens group chats hmu.

As far as houseplants go, the one Aziraphale had chosen to give to Crowley was a fairly good choice. As long as one watered and preened it regularly it was quite low maintenance. If kept well it would grow to be very beautiful.

Crowley had been repeating these positives in his head for a few hours now as he sat alone in his flat staring at the plotted plant in defiance.

It had been less than 24 hours since he had received the present from his angel and to say he was conflicted would be an understatement. He knew that eventually he would have to move the plant in with the others and begin to...take care of it. 

_ “So that you could think of me whilst you tend to it.” _ Aziraphale had said.

Now he couldn’t even look at the damn thing without seeing his face. 

Which was a problem, because the thought of yelling abuse at - or striking fear into - Aziraphale made his body want to vomit. He remembered the anger that had pulsed through his very soul when he’d witnessed the way Heaven wanted to punish the angel. He had sworn then to never let anything ever hurt or mistreat his friend.

Obviously the small plant wasn’t actually Aziraphale but nevertheless Crowley already knew he wasn’t going to be comfortable treating it the way he treated his others. 

At the same time he couldn’t deny that there were times when he used his plants as an outlet for his frustration caused by said angel. Six thousand years of repressed want can do that to a man. Well, demon.

Crowley had come to terms with his immense love for Aziraphale a very long time ago. He had also come to terms with the fact that he seemed to be alone in that love. 

Which was understandable. He was - after all - a demon, and Aziraphale seemed to not really partake in romantic or physical love. At least Crowley hoped that he didn’t. Or hadn’t yet, more accurately. He couldn’t help the bitter taste in his mouth at the thought of some simple mortal receiving affection from his angel.

Through all of this bitterness and frustration he never ever felt them directly towards Aziraphale. He had no right to demand his feelings be shared. Aziraphale already gave him more kindness and fondness than any other person since he had fallen, and possibly even before then.

Besides, it was impossible to actually be angry with him. He was far too kind and adorable and patient. Everytime Aziraphale gave a bright smile Crowley could almost remember what it felt like to be Heaven blessed. Even more so when he would look at Crowley in that way that he sometimes did and for a second Crowley would think  _ maybe _ .

_ “You go too fast for me, Crowley.” _

“Bugger this.” Crowley muttered as he picked up the infernal plant and walked over to his personal garden. He found a place for the gift among some of the room’s best. 

“You are just a plant.” He said out loud, trying to convince himself more than the plant. “You are going to grow wonderfully, or you will be removed!” 

He looked around as his other plants shook with their usual fear. He grinned to himself. 

“All of your new friends can fill you in on how things work here.” He informed the plant gleefully. The small thing just...existed there, still as anything. 

“At least I think they can I’m not completely sure exactly how sentient you all are.” He muttered to himself.

He left the room and sighed to himself. He had some strong doubts about his ability to keep this up, but that wasn't too bad.

It was when watering time came around two days later that Crowley broke. 

Aziraphale’s plant was fine, but one of the others’ leaves had begun to go dry and brown. Very disappointing. Crowley had picked up the disappointment, about to go through his usual beratement, but as the other houseplants began to shake and quiver Crowley caught sight of Aziraphale’s small plant and hesitated. 

The plant simply sat there calmly, not a shiver to be had. The stillness felt off-putting and Crowley sensed he was being judged. As he looked at the thing he couldn’t help but picture the slightly annoyed face Aziraphale would sometimes give him whenever he was being too ‘uncouth’. Shame welled up inside of him.

“What?” He yelled out. “Do you think you’re better than the rest? Do you think you’re perfect?” 

The plant remained still.

“I’ll deal with you later!” Crowley put down the browning plant and instead retrieved Aziraphale’s plant. “I don’t take kindly to arrogance anymore than imperfection. You’re coming with me, since you think you’re so beautiful!”

The other plants all stilled for a moment in shock before they began to vibrate again as Crowley escorted the newest plant away, yelling at it as he went.

He didn’t destroy his gift, although if his other plants were to ever gain the ability of speech and ask him about it, he would say he had.

In fact he had gently placed the plant on his bedroom window sill and leant beside it.

“You are in fact pretty perfect.” He stated shyly. The plant remained still.

Over the next few weeks Crowley continued to keep his gift in his bedroom and tend to it away from his other plants.

“You look beautiful today.” He’d say softly. “You’re growing very well.”

Somehow he had taken to talking to the plant kindly. Sometimes about the weather, or about his day, but usually about Aziraphale. Just as he sometimes used his other plants to express his frustration and anxiety, he began to use this plant to express his admiration.

“There’s nothing quite like it, plant. When I look over at him and he’s just off in his own little world reading his silly old books. He always has this look on his face, as if the whole world has just - poof - disappeared!” He’d ramble as he watered the plant. “How can I not take the opportunity to take him all in?”

“Sometimes he’ll notice I’ve been staring at him and he’ll suddenly look over to me and give me this little smile and I swear I would die for him.”

He would always walk over and just continue talking from wherever he left off the previous day. The plant had become quite accustomed to the exchanges and actively looked forward to them. The love coming off of it’s owner was just as fulfilling as the water it was fed.

“Six thousand years.” Crowley sat on his window sill looking up at the night sky. “I helped create a lot of these stars, y’know.” He’d been having trouble sleeping. “He must know. He can sense love, he said so. Six thousand years of trying to show him...rejection sucks.”

“Maybe I should just get it all out in the open?” Crowley was giving his room a tidy a few days later. Aziraphale would be visiting for drinks later. “Or not.”

Crowley had been genuinely impressed, his plant was growing very quickly. Some flower buds had even begun to grow.


	3. Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale realises his gift plant isn't with Crowley's other plants and confronts him which leads to confessions and realisations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may end up actually writing a fourth chapter for this of just smut but we'll see. Follow me on tumblr and twitter both at @ohgoodlordd. If you know of any 18+ Good Omens group chats hmu.

Aziraphale wasn’t one to usually partake in ‘snooping’ as humans called it. However throughout his now regular visits to Crowley’s home there were still parts of his flat he had not gotten the opportunity to see. He didn’t think this was particularly fair considering Crowley had seen all of his own home above the bookshop. Aziraphale had realised that this was a rather odd and immature thought to have, but his curiosity had gotten the better of him. So while Crowley was busy making them some hot drinks in the kitchen Aziraphale may or may not have ‘snooped’.

The first room he had taken a look at turned out to actually be a storage room of some kind which was more dusty than interesting. The second room proved to be far more intimate, the large bed clearly indicating it as Crowley’s bedroom. 

Unsurprisingly the room was rather similar to the rest of the flat. Dark walls, fairly minimalist. The bed itself however did seem quite warm and inviting, it had a much more homely vibe to it. Aziraphale found himself smiling at the thought. As he continued to glance around the room a familiar plant caught his eye.

Now Aziraphale had to admit the real reason he had begun this ‘snooping’ escapade was because he had been looking through Crowley’s inside garden and hadn’t been able to spot the plant he had gifted him a few weeks ago for Christmas. He couldn’t deny that the absence had made him worry. Maybe Crowley hadn’t liked it after all. 

He walked over to the plant to inspect it, appreciating how much more it had grown.

“Look at you, little one!” He smiled cheerfully.

The plant appeared to suddenly stand up slightly straighter at his presence. Aziraphale felt strong waves of love emanating off of the plant, which he thought rather odd.

His thoughts became heavy once more.  _ Why had Crowley moved the plant here? Did he really not like it? _

“Oh. Here you are, angel.” Crowley stood in the doorway carrying a small tray with two mugs on it which he gently placed on his bedside table. “What are you doing in here?”

Aziraphale suddenly felt quite embarrassed. He stepped away from the plant and walked over to collect his hot cocoa from the table. He tried to hide his discomfort behind the mug he sipped at as he saw Crowley look over to the plant and stiffen. 

He found himself wishing - not for the first time - that his friend didn’t feel the need to wear his dark glasses so often when it was just the two of them. His expression was so much harder to read. Besides, Aziraphale liked Crowley’s eyes.

The two of them awkwardly made their way back to the main living room, drink in hand, pointedly ignoring the elephant (or shall we say, potted plant) in the (bed)room. A few silent moments passed as they sat down.

“Didn’t think it would fit in with the others?” Aziraphale asked, aiming for nonchalant and failing miserably. It was hard to hide the hurt and accusation from his voice.

“Erm. I just thought it might get more light in there, is all.” Even through the dark lenses Aziraphale could tell he was pointedly avoiding eye contact.

“Is that so?” Perhaps he should have just gotten him something simple, another book even. A plant was a bit presumptuous when he knew so little about them himself. “If it’s not a plant you have much interest in, you can just tell me. You needn’t keep it.”

Crowley seemed to look at him incredulously as they sat in silence.

“It’s not that.” Crowley said softly.

Aziraphale was becoming a little frustrated, it was difficult for him to gauge the situation. He really thought he had rather nailed this gift when he first saw it in the market. It hurt to think maybe he misread his friend and his interests, especially when he had loved his gift from Crowley so much.

“Then what is it?” He snapped. “Why isn’t it a part of your garden?”

“I just - I wanted to give it more attention.”

“You give your other plants in there plenty of attention. I mean, you must do, they all look so wonderful.” He felt himself losing his bitterness as he spoke.

He swore Crowley began to blush as he was becoming more flustered.

“I really did try my best to get you something you’d love.” Aziraphale admitted sadly.

“And I do!” Crowley blurted. “I really do. It’s a great plant.”

“Are you just lying to make me feel better?”

“Why would I lie to you?” 

“You’re a demon, that’s what you do.”

He watched as Crowley seemed to shrink in on himself a little.

“Not to you, angel. Never to you.” Crowley whispered.

Aziraphale felt rightfully ashamed. He didn’t mean to hurt his friend’s feelings. Sometimes Aziraphale would forget how different Crowley was from other demons, and how special their connection was, and he’d say things he’d been programmed to believe without thinking. He knew it wasn’t true. 

“I’m sorry, dear.” He moved to sit down next to Crowley. “That wasn’t fair of me.”

“It’s fine.” Crowley coughed to himself, clearly hoping to brush the whole thing away.

“Do you really like the plant?” Aziraphale asked softly.

“Yes, I do.” Crowley’s voice cracked slightly.

Aziraphale was suddenly very aware of how close they were to each other and how tense the atmosphere seemed to become. A little voice inside of him urged him on,  _ do it now it’s the perfect time _ .

“I also really liked your gift.” He tried to push all of his feelings into the words as he gazed at his dearest.

“Glad to hear it.” 

Aziraphale could tell that Crowley was still avoiding eye contact. He suddenly felt a need to be able to see his eyes. Those same eyes that had followed him for six thousand years, since the beginning of humanity itself. Those eyes that had shone with amusement and irritation. Those eyes that had always seemed to pierce through his very soul. Those eyes he’d see in his daydreams and imagine in times of stress or loneliness. Those eyes that were like no other. The eyes of his only friend. The eyes of the old wiley serpent that had always kept him on his toes. 

He slowly lifted his hand and reached out for Crowley, who watched his hand intently as it came closer and Aziraphale couldn’t stop the slight tremor to the movement.

“Aziraphale?” Barely a whisper.

He hesitated. There were times when Crowley would willingly take off his glasses when it was just the two of them, but usually only after a few drinks. He knew why Crowley wore them. They were a very handy defense tool. Crowley could hide behind them. He could hide his eyes that mortals found ‘creepy’, and had at some point taken to being either scared or enraged by, which could make tempting hard for him. But he could also use them to hide his emotions, which Aziraphale knew the demon had plenty of.

He also knew that if Crowley really didn’t want him to continue, he would tell him. So he reached up and slowly removed the glasses from his companion’s face and placed them on the coffee table.

When he looked back he was met by those wonderfully entrancing eyes, which were no longer avoiding his. He saw the vulnerability there and it nearly broke his heart.

Flashes of memories of other times in their friendship Aziraphale had seen a similar expression, even through sunglasses, came to mind. One specific memory froze him in place for a moment.

_ “You go too fast for me, Crowley.”  _ He had said. And Crowley’s face had fallen.

It was hard for Aziraphale to accept and make sense of all of the feelings he’d had throughout the past six thousand years. He wasn’t proud of his inability to truly grasp it all. It would be a lie to pretend that they didn’t both know he wasn’t really talking about Crowley’s driving at the time. But he wasn’t fully aware of what he was talking about either. Not really. Not at the time. But now he knew. 

“Crowley, my dear, I am very sorry.” He muttered. Crowley’s eyebrows furrowed together dramatically. “I’m sorry I didn’t realise sooner.”

Crowley had been reaching out to him constantly for six thousand years, patiently waiting. Letting him know through acts of service and kindness big and small that his love was true and unconditional. 

Crowley was cool and confident, that’s what he wanted everyone to see. And Aziraphale did think that Crowley was insanely cool and hip, but he also knew that inside Crowley was fairly insecure and introverted. Crowley was always trying to show the angel that he was somebody he could depend on, doing whatever was asked. Aziraphale now realised there had been times when he may have taken advantage of that service, liking the way it felt to be taken care of. What Crowley was truly seeking from him was affirmation.  _ I’m good enough, aren’t I? _

Always willing to wait. Always willing to help. Always reaching out halfway.

It was time for Aziraphale to reach back and meet him the other halfway.

Aziraphale leaned forward slowly. Again knowing if Crowley didn’t want him continue he would tell him. He watched as Crowley’s eyes widened even as he himself moved forward.

As their lips gently met for the first time Aziraphale felt he finally understood why humans took part in such physical forms of affection. His body reacted immediately, he felt the heat rise up inside of him as sparks were exchanged at their mouths’ contact. 

He pulled away after just a few seconds and looked at his dearest. He couldn’t help but chuckle lightly in surprise. 

Crowley’s pupils were dilated, not unlike a cat’s, causing his eyes to be mostly black. It was quite adorable.

The demon blushed furiously at the laugh and looked away, embarrassed. 

Aziraphale gently cupped the demon’s chin and guided his face back to his.

“You’re beautiful, dear.” He muttered. “I’ve always thought so.”

Their second kiss was much more passionate and Aziraphale felt even more of his human body reacting. Crowley’s hands had found their way into his hair where they tugged lightly, which Aziraphale found he quite liked. His own hand gently held Crowley’s face as he felt his cheeks dampen.

Pulling away again he could see that Crowley was in fact crying, he gently began to wipe his lover’s tears away.

“I’ve been -” Crowley was struggling to find the words. “I’ve wanted this for so long.”

“I know, dearest. I’m sorry it took me so long.” 

Crowley suddenly pushed Aziraphale down against the sofa and attached their mouths together again. This kiss was much messier and more aggressive as Crowley nipped at his lips and pushed his own body over Aziraphale.

The angel had always been able to feel love. The Earth had a natural layer of love running through everything, he felt it at a constant everyday. He had assumed that it was the inherent love that he has an angel possessed, but as he held Crowley close to him he realised the love that he had felt since the garden hadn’t been him at all. It had been Crowley. Always Crowley.

On the window sill of Crowley’s bedroom the first of the small potted plant’s buds began to bloom.


End file.
